


Shame In The Shape Of Bruises

by Sadistic_Writer_Of_FanFiction



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood, Bruises, Child Abuse, Crying, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Everyone Is Alive, Friendship, Hurt Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, Reggie Peters Has Bad Parents (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters Whump (Julie and The Phantoms), Sad, Self-Harm, Whump, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadistic_Writer_Of_FanFiction/pseuds/Sadistic_Writer_Of_FanFiction
Summary: Reggie explained how after he got his father’s attention, his mom slipped out of the house, fleeing for her own safety. How his dad kept squeezing his arm, before throwing him to the floor and delivering kick after kick to his ribs. How Reggie couldn’t see because there was blood in his eyes, but knowing his father’s face was twisted up in a drunken rage.After Reggie come stumbling into the studio, bruised and bloody, Alex and Luke fix him up, and try to keep him calm after the escalation of his parent's abuse.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 115





	Shame In The Shape Of Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> This story happens prior to the events in the show.

“Reggie are you  _ drunk _ ?” Bobby tactlessly accuses, upon seeing the other boy stumble in through the studio doors.

Reggie lets out a sound that could only be described as a whine, as he swayed in the doorway to his safe haven. 

Luke and Alex shot Bobby a dirty look, knowing alcohol was an off limits topic of conversation. They both looked over at Reggie, concern filling their expressions.

“Reggie? What’s going on?”

“Are you okay?”

Reggie shuffles a little further into the room, arms tightly clasped around his middle, as if he was trying to give himself a hug.

The light hit the boy, and his bandmates could see that he was in rough shape. Blood matted his hair and the left side of his forehead. The beginning blue tinges of a fresh bruise was forming around his eye, and a few more littered his jawline. He was slightly hunched over, a clear indication that he’d hurt his midsection. Blood coated the knuckles on his right hand, and his left wrist was swollen and starting to slowly darken. 

He wouldn’t meet any of the boy’s eyes. He just shifted with unease, his face tired and weary. The others pretended not to notice the redness and puffiness surrounding his eyes, or the partially dried tear tracks that glinted in the light. 

“Reg… come ‘ere. Sit down.” Alex said, ushering the smaller boy to the couch without actually touching him.

Reggie curled up in the corner, chin resting on his knees, fingers anxiously tangling with a loose thread on his jeans. He pushed the sleeves of his jacket up past his elbows, and involuntarily let out a keening noise, before biting down on his left fist.

“Hey, Reggie. No. No biting. Okay?” Alex said as he gently pulled Reggie’s hand away from his mouth and set it on the armrest beside him. He chose to ignore the flinch Reggie made when he saw Alex reach for him.

They sat in a tense silence, Bobby having gone to look for a first aid kit, and Alex kneeling at Reggie’s feet, Luke in the same position, resting his chin on the edge of the armrest. Reggie sniffled and pulled both arms close to his body. It took the other boys a couple moments too long to realize that he was digging his blunt fingernails into the crook of his elbows, a harmful coping mechanism he’d developed over the years.

“Hey. Hey none of that.” Alex admonished, softly. Luke gently pulled Reggie’s hands away from his arms. He held them, rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles, careful not to touch the broken and bruised skin on the boy’s right hand. 

Bobby came back with their meager medical supplies, a bucket of warm water, and a couple of clean rags. He set them beside Alex on the ground.

Alex took charge of cleaning up Reggie. Luke and Bobby backed off, giving the other two boys some much needed space. 

The blond started with Reggie’s hand. Wiping it gently with the wet rag, patting it dry and wrapping it in a thin layer of gauze. He then moved onto the cut on Reggie’s forehead, dipping the cloth into the clean water, slowly turning the clear liquid pink. He decided to start with washing the blood that had congealed around the gash and had run into his hair. He wasn’t able to get all the dried blood out of his hair, strands crusted together and knotting at his scalp. Alex chose not to worry about that particular issue at the moment. He had more important issues at hand. 

The cut on Reggie’s forehead was slightly gaping, the edges pulling apart and showing a weird, white, almost bubbly looking layer of flesh. It wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, at least Alex didn’t think it was. The good news was that it had stopped bleeding. The bad news was that there was a shard of glass—not a big piece, but glass nonetheless—lodged into the skin at the bottom of the cut, just above Reggie’s eyebrow. 

“Reg?” Alex hesitantly asked, barely able to meet the frail boy’s glassy eyes. “I need to take a piece of glass out of your cut. Okay?”

He got a small, jerky nod in response. Alex wasn’t entirely sure that Reggie understood what was going on, but he continued on with caring for him. Taking a pair of tweezers in his right hand, he brought his left up to cup Reggie’s face, so he wouldn’t move around while he removed the glass.

Reggie violently flinched back, a sob ripped from his throat as he tried to press himself further into the corner of the couch.

“It’s just me. It’s Alex. Okay? I’m not going to hurt you. You are safe. You’re safe Reg.” Alex assured him, voice soft and soothing. 

“Safe.” Reggie stuttered.

“Yes. Safe.” 

With that, Alex slowly, cautiously, brought his hand back up to his friend’s face. Reggie still tensed up and suppressed a whimper, but allowed the contact. Swallowing nervously, Alex picked the small shard out of the cut, tweezers slightly shaking in his grasp from his nerves. Luckily, he got it out on his first try. Blood slowly started to bead up where the glass was, and Alex pressed a square of gauze to the cut.

They sat in silence for a few moments. The only sound in the studio were Reggie’s harsh, anxious breaths. Alex slowly lifted the gauze away, inspecting the cut. Satisfied that there was no more fresh blood, he continued on with cleaning the gash. He managed to find a butterfly bandage in the first aid kit, and after gently pinching the edges of the cut together, he stuck it on in the center, the bandage sufficiently keeping the cut closed. Alex gently placed a regular bandaid over top, just to be safe.

He pulled back, completely letting go of Reggie. The boy looked both relieved and sad at the loss of contact. 

“Reg? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Reggie just blinked at him. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, ducking his head.

Luke came over to them at that point, realizing that Alex might need some help with Reggie.

“Hey buddy.” He softly said. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re not gonna get angry. Okay? No matter what. We will never be angry with you. We care about you, so much. We just want to help. Okay? So please… please let us help you.”

Reggie relented, and holding back gasps of pain, he sat up straight, unfurling from his previous position. 

“Can—” His voice broke, “can you help me get my jacket off?”

Luke nodded and carefully helped pull Reggie’s arms from the bunched up fabric of the jacket. He placed the coat on the back of the couch. 

“Shirt too? Or do you wanna just lift it up?” Luke asked.

“Lift.”

“Okay. Do you want me to help?”

Reggie nodded. 

“Okay.” Luke breathed. He gripped the bottom of Reggie’s white T-shirt and gently lifted it enough so that he and Alex could see his ribs, which were unsurprisingly and disappointingly covered in both old and new bruising. Alex ghosted his hands over the tender flesh, checking for any obvious breaks. Not finding any, he nodded for Luke to let go of the shirt. The fabric fell back into place, and Reggie slumped over seconds later.

“Bobby? Can you get some ice for his wrist? Please.” Alex asked, and the guitarist jumped at the chance to be helpful. He felt bad about his earlier comment, knowing it was unwarranted and was a topic that usually upset Reggie, since a lot of his parent’s fights were brought on by his father’s drinking. He figured he would apologize later, when everything was less raw. 

He returned shortly with a baggie of ice. He handed it to Luke, who gingerly placed it onto Reggie’s wrist. Reggie shuttered at the coldness but otherwise didn’t react.

The band sat together. No one spoke. Eventually Reggie began to come back to himself. Teary eyed, he looked at his friends.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. We love you. We just want you to be safe.”

“You never have to apologize when things like this happen.” Luke added on to Alex’s response.

“Yeah man. We got you.” Bobby piped up, not good with the more emotional talk, but wanting to reassure his friend nonetheless.

Reggie offered up a watery grin.

“Thank you.”

Bobby decided he’d make himself scarce, and let the boys take care of Reggie. They were closer to him, and significantly better with the more sensitive topics that had to be discussed regarding his newest injuries. It’s not that the two of them were on bad terms or anything, he just knew that his presence wasn’t going to help calm the boy down, seeing as it was some pretty personal issues that were going on. 

“Alrighty boys,” he groaned as he stood up from where he’d been previously sitting, stretching his legs and back as he took a few steps back. “I’m gonna head inside now. If you need anything, just knock. Stay as long as you need. Hope you feel better soon, Reggie.” 

After Bobby left, Luke and Alex scooted closer to the boy on the couch, but still remained seated on the floor. 

“What happened tonight Reg?” Alex sighed, running a weary hand through his long hair in slight frustration.

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t even try with that BS Reg.” Luke said, but there was no fire behind his words. Just worry. “Nothing doesn’t give you bruises and cuts. Nothing doesn’t break you like this. So please, just… tell us what happened.”

“It’s just… well you see… I—” He stammered, unable to organize his chaotic thoughts into a coherent sentence. 

“It’s okay. Take your time.” Alex placated, seeing that Reggie was beginning to get agitated again.

“It’s my fault. I got in the way.”

“Reggie…” 

“No. It’s true. Dad was drinking again. Lots. And he was screaming at my mom, calling her all kinds of names and cursing her out and he was gonna hurt her so I redirected his attention to me. He threw his empty bottle at the door frame. Guess that’s where I hurt my head. I came at him. Told him to leave mom alone. But he grabbed my arm and then he…” Reggie sobbed, “and he wouldn’t stop and it hurt and I wanna hate him but I don’t and I…” 

“Hey. It’s okay.” Alex interjected. “You need to breathe Reggie. In and out. That’s it.”

Once he’d staved off the panic attack, Reggie explained how after he got his father’s attention, his mom slipped out of the house, fleeing for her own safety. How his dad kept squeezing his arm, before throwing him to the floor and delivering kick after kick to his ribs. How Reggie couldn’t see because there was blood in his eyes, but knowing his father’s face was twisted up in a drunken rage.

Alex and Luke listened, allowing the boy to get everything he needed to say out, only interjecting if the boy got too worked up and needed a breather. 

“I want to hate them.” Reggie confessess. “But I can’t. They’re my parents, yenno? How messed up is that? I can’t hate the people who hurt me. Who hate me.” 

“Reggie… you don’t have to hate them. You’re allowed to feel how you feel. And no one can tell you otherwise. But I will say, you need to get out of there. We don’t want to see you hurt anymore.” Alex said, trying to catch Reggie’s eye. 

“Yeah Reg. I know you don’t want to hear this but… things are only going to get worse. Your dad isn’t going to suddenly wake up one day and be back to who he used to be. Same goes for your mom. We want you to be safe. And staying at home is only going to hurt you.” Luke continued. 

“We’re not saying it has to be right this second, but it definitely has to be soon. I’m sure we can work something out with Bobby’s parents. You could live in the loft. And we will be by your side every step of the way.” Alex told him.

“What if I can’t?” Reggie asked, voice so soft and full of shame it almost physically hurt his friends to hear.

“You can. We believe in you Reggie. Even if you don’t believe in yourself. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” 


End file.
